


Reading

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 18th Century, Faust - Freeform, Fluff, Hugs, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Reading, a bit of angst, comfort cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 12:40:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19830433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Reading

The first time Aziraphale read Faust by Wolfgang Goethe (smart fellow that one) it was the 18th century and he was with Crowley.

They were lounging together in the back of the bookshop as they often liked to do.

Crowley’s head was in Aziraphale’s lap and his eyes were closed.

It almost looked like he was sleeping.

As Aziraphale paused to catch his breath, Crowley pressed his hand onto the book and moved it aside just so he could gaze up at the angel.

“I don’t like Mephistopheles.”

Aziraphale raised his brows at the remark. He expected Crowley to be fond of the hellish character.

“You don’t?”

Crowley shook his head.

“He reminds me too much of what I’m supposed to be but am not.“

His voice was sad and Aziraphale’s hand ran gently through Crowely’s hair of its own accord.

“And what is that, my dear?”

“Evil, Aziraphale. Mephistopheles is cruel and merciless. He feels no empathy towards the people he’s corrupting. He’s a far better demon than I’ll ever be and he’s not even real.”

While saying that, Crowley pulled himself up slowly so that his face was on the same level as Aziraphale’s. His eyes mirrored the sadness of his tone.

“I wasn’t good enough to be an angel. I’m barely evil enough to be a demon. It feels like I just don’t belong anywhere.“

Aziraphale returned his gaze carefully.

“You belong here, on Earth of course. Your soul must be of a human kind.”

Crowley scoffed.

“My soul? As if I have such a thing and even if I do, I’m hardly brave enough to have a human one.”

"I think you are brave.”

“You think everybody is brave, angel.”

Aziraphale frowned. Crowley could have been very stubborn if he chose to.

“In their own way, yes but,“ he nudged Crowley‘s chin and made him meet his gaze once again „you are brave beyond that. You stood up against Heaven for god’s sake.“

Crowley’s eyes widened at the words.

"There’s nothing braver than that.”

Aziraphale finished and touched Crowley’s cheek in a gentle caress.

Crowley wished he was brave enough to explain to Aziraphale why he wasn’t brave at all, not in the slightest - why he wasn’t able to look him in the eyes any longer, why his chest felt so tight all of a sudden, why he was shaking even though he wasn’t cold.

He buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck and breathed deeply.

“Thank you.”

Aziraphale’s arms found his waist and held him.

A few long minutes later, Crowley pulled away with a small smile.

He rested his head back in Aziraphale’s lap.

Despite having his eyes closed, Crowley knew that the angel was eyeing him worriedly.

Blindly, he reached out for the discarded book and pressed it into Aziraphale’s hand.

“Read.”

He said and if Aziraphale’s other hand found Crowley’s and stayed there while the rest of the evening progressed, warm and reassuring on Crowley’s stomach, neither Heaven or Hell would have ever known.


End file.
